When Claude Du Val was in Newgate thrown, He carved his name on the dungeon stone; Quoth a dubsman, who gazed on the shattered wall, "You have carved your epitaph, Claude Du Val, With your chisel so fine, tra la!" "This S wants a little deepening," mused the apprentice, retouching the letter in question; "ay, that's better. ” The truth prevailed. He saw himself retreating from barricade to barricade, Ruth always advancing, perfectly oblivious of the terror she inspired. No one spoke to her. You had better go to bed.
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